


The Pains that are Withheld for Me

by Dawnwind



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 09:30:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9997973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dawnwind/pseuds/Dawnwind
Summary: Twenty minute fic--Starsky's concerned about Hutch's state of mind.





	

The Pains that are Withheld for Me  
By  
Dawnwind

 _Happiness is a Warm Gun_ by the Beatles was playing on the stereo when Starsky let himself into Venice Place. Not a good sign. 

Hutch didn’t even look up from something he was writing at the kitchen table.

“Terrific, Hutch,” Starsky said, laying on just a thin layer of sarcasm. Who knew how much Hutch could handle on a day like this. “Next you’ll be listening to _Suicide is Painless_ from MASH.”

That got his attention. “That doesn’t even have words.”

“Does to.” Starsky plunked down in a wooden chair. “Not the TV show theme, but the movie version does.”

“How does it go?” Hutch asked vaguely, staring down at the list he’d written in pencil.

“Not sure it’s the best song to be singing around the campfire, Hoss,” Starsky pointed out, trying to read around the forearm Hutch had blocking his list. 

“Starsk, much as it might seem, I am not depressed,” Hutch informed him loftily. “And you do not have a psychology degree.”

Shrugging, Starsky dredged up the lyrics from the back of his trivia stuffed brain. Only one verse came to him quickly, and he was fairly sure it was from the middle of the song. “The game of life is hard to play, gonna lose it anyway, the losing card I’ll some day lay,” he sang softly, “And this is all I have to say—“

“Suicide is painless, “ Hutch finished, sounding like he was going to cry. He rubbed the knuckle of his thumb hard against his forehead. “Why the hell did we get started on this subject anyway? No one did away with themselves.”

“In a way, I kinda think she did,” Starsky said. He’d been thinking about this for a long time, and been afraid to say it out loud. “Maybe not obviously, but I think she gave her life for yours.”

“Would you shut the hell up?” Hutch snarled, standing so abruptly the chair fell over. He stalked across the linoleum and back to the sink as if penned in a small cage. “She’s dead, what the hell does it matter how it happened?”

Starsky took a deep breath and backed off. Now was not the time. “Whatcha writing?” he asked instead, turning the page around. It was a list of achievements, possibly careers. “You thinking of becoming a writer?” He read the next couple words and realized what Hutch had written. “Dreamer, liar, hooker—oh.”

“Yeah. Con woman would be another possibility,” Hutch said savagely. 

“Hutch, she loved you,” Starsky blinked at the sting of tears in his eyes. Stupid time to get sentimental. He thought of when he’d come to Gillian’s apartment to offer her money to leave. Which was all kinds of wrong. He knew that now. Luckily, Hutch had never found out and Starsky had simply put a stop on the check. Money safely back in his account, Gillian dead. Wasn’t at all the result he’d envisioned. “And I know you. You’re my best friend. You loved her.”

“Loved a complete fantasy,” Hutch rested his forehead on the kitchen window glass.

Must be cooler, Starsky thought. He has a headache. “At the heart of the matter, you loved her—and while she wasn’t…entirely truthful—“

“She did what she had to protect me?” Hutch cocked his fist and for a moment Starsky was afraid he was going to put it through the glass.

Something he would have done. When had Hutch turned into the impulsive one and he was the calm, while not detached but calmer, consoling friend?

“Yeah. S’not suicide, is it? It’s bravery in the face of pain.”

“Something so much harder.” Hutch moaned.

Starsky stood, folding Hutch’s broad shouldered, lanky frame into his arms. They were always better when they were together, facing the foes as one. “Living is always harder, but it’s what we got.”

“You don’t have a losing card in your hand, do you?” Hutch whispered, clinging.


End file.
